To All Those Brave and Lovely

Guilt

At some point, Peter's going to have to get used to lying to people.

Like, okay, if he was ever going to think about what qualifies as an excuse to lie to everyone you care about, he supposes that getting bit by a radioactive spider and developing super powers is a pretty damn good one.  But he's found that that only works in theory, because in practice it leaves you with an aunt that always has a face pinched with worry and doesn't really trust you anymore, and friends that can only ever half count on you because you might be off saving the world, and a girl that you like but who would really hate you if she found out the truth, because you maybe sort of got her father killed.

"It's going to be fine."  Tony isn't looking at him, he's looking down at the folders spread across the table, sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  He looks more calm and collected than Peter thinks that anyone in his situation had the right to be, but he's also a little stressed, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers trembling just enough to make the paper shake.  "She's safe."

"I know she's safe."  Peter sort of wants to scream, but doesn't, because that would be rude and inappropriate and immature, and Mr. Stark doesn't need to know that his little superhero apprentice is having a break down right when he may need him most.  Especially because he wasn't just worrying about the terrorist group, but also about school, and his friends, and if he's going to get dragged into the Avengers problems again, and Nora, whether Nora is going to be okay, whether she likes him, whether or not she thinks about that kiss as much as he does.

Probably not, but it didn't matter, and anyways, he won't be telling anyone about any of this.

Tony turns to look at him over the rims of his glasses (cause he wears those now, because in his words, getting old is a bitch).  "What's really the matter?  Because you look like you're ready to jump straight out the window just to blow off some steam."  Strange, because Peter was itching to do just that, something to do so he didn't have to sit here and stare across the room at Nora, dealing with the same buzzing nerves that has come ever since the night they kissed.  "Is the sensory overload bothering you again?"

"No,"  Peter bats away the hand that Tony stretches out, shrugging away.  He doesn't want another concerned parent lecture, even though that was sort of becoming a problem, too.  "It's just..."

Just.

Just that maybe sometimes he wishes he really could go back to being the happy neighborhood Spider-Man, because now he sees himself on tv and dreams about throwing that robot into that building every other night, and when he wakes up he's choking on the dust and blood and vomit all over again.  Just that Flash is still a jerk and his friends are still his friends, but he can't help but think that maybe all those idiots at school were right, that he is just a loser and a nerd and all those other things that would make a girl like Nora not want anything to do with a guy like him.  Just that he really likes Nora, and now he feels really guilty because now he keeps thinking about what it feels like to kiss her even though she was only doing it to stop Flash from laughing at him.  Just that he really, really wants to kiss her again, but can't, because he's the reason her father is dead.  

Tony watches him without speaking, and seems to get a lot of that even if Peter would never say it out loud.  "You could tell her."

"I can't."

"She would understand."

"I got her father killed." 

This is the thing they don't talk about, the thing that has him waking up in the middle of the night and pulling away when Nora gets too close, the thing that would kill her if she ever found out.  "No."  And now Tony did reach out for him and Peter wasn't pushing him away, just let himself be pulled into the crushing embrace of someone who loves him, the closest thing to a father figure he has at the moment.  "No, the evil guys killed him, they're responsible for every bad thing that happened that day."

"But I-,"

"But nothing.  You were doing your best."  Tony steps away, and now its the both of them staring at Nora, watching her laugh and smile and shove at Wanda like nothing bad had ever happened to her.  "Nora really cares about you.  The real you, not the one running around shooting webs from his hands.  She won't throw that away over something that wasn't your fault."  Then, when Peter just sort of stares at him, "I mean, she might be real pissed for a while a try to punch you, but she'll get over it."

Peter nods, swallows hard, and then fakes a smile, because Nora was coming over to them.  "You ready to go?"

She has her hand out for him, and he takes it without thinking, because he still lives for those casual touches between them.  He's not ready, not at all, especially when every time he looks after her he's getting this stabbing pain in his stomach, like the guilt he's feeling over everything he's hid from her is actually going to kill him.

Saved me again, she had said when he swung in to find her doing just fine on her own.  He remembered the heart pounding panic, the terror he felt when he got the call from Tony (he had been right down the road, extra security, just in case), and then how she had stared at him, half surprised and half accusing.  And then how he had to leave her there, because she would not find him comforting.

I didn't save you, He had wanted to say back, because that was the truth, the only thing he had ever done was take away her home.  I ruined you.

"Yeah."  His voice cracks, his stupid voice that is too high and soft and that one semi-bad dude thought belonged to a girl.  Just another thing wrong with him.  "Ready when you are."